I'm Ready
by Kels1021
Summary: My eyes slide close, ready to except this. I won’t fight it because I want it. I’m ready to die. AU FanFic. ExB later.
1. Prologue

_Drip. Drip. Drip. _

The sound was monotonous, bland, unchanging.

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

It continues forever the same way until it can no more. It doesn't change, but everything it represents does. With each drip, a life floats farther away. With each drip, a person comes closer to dying.

I have finally snapped. It finally happened. It's actually quite surprising that this didn't happen long ago. I never had anything to live for. My mother didn't want me, my father hit me, people shied away from me. The only men who ever touched me did it without my consent. I was trash.

Now, as my eyes wandered around the plain, small bathroom, I found that I felt no regret to what I was doing. No regret, none what so ever. In fact I felt nothing; I'm empty, as cold as the tile I'm lying on, as cold as my blood now is on the floor.

My vision starts to blur, crisp edges of the counter and the window turning into fuzzy objects. It causes a slow, disturbingly peaceful smile to spread to my lips. My eyes slide close, ready to except this. I won't fight it because I want it.

I'm ready to die.

**A/N: So whatcha think? Please, share your thoughts. Review loves. **

**I'll try to post the first chapter tomorrow, but if I don't, don't expect if for another week because I'm leaving for a camp on Wednesday. Sorry. **

**Review! **


	2. Crimson

**A/N: Okay, so this has to be the fastest I've ever updated anything. Aren't you proud? I just posted this chapter but took it down to fix a few things. Theending is different. **

**So there were a few questions. Yes, this story is going to be in Bella's POV. I may post a few one-shots with Edwards for parts of the story. And the prologue is going to take place at some point in this story. **

**And sorry for any typos. I type fast and don't proof read (yes, I'm lazy). I'm totally open for a BETA, so please offer if you're available. **

**Also, I suppose I should put up an actual summery for all of you.**

**Summery: In this story, Bella is not the one we know and love. She comes from a mother who is distant and struggling. Her home life is difficult, her boyfriend is a jerk, and her soul is dead. When she is arrested, her mom ships her off to her alcoholic, abusive, ex-police chief father. Bella starts her new school and finds that a curious beautiful boy won't stop watching her. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or the characters. **

The solemn rain matched my mood; or made it darker. The clouds completely blocked the sun; I didn't even know where it was in the grey sky. I was okay with this though; I hated the sun. It mad things appear happy when they were not. The sun is nothing but a lie.

My hand rose to the window, one finger pressing to meet a raindrop that was on the opposite side. It slowly slide down the trail the drop had made, mimicking it. The drops mind me of tears, something I haven't shed in so long. My fingers curled slowly until my hand as a fist and dropped into my lap.

I finally looked beyond the rain drops on my window to look out into the world of green. The driveway was occupied by my rusted out truck, the lawn looking sad and overgrown. Beyond was the road and then trees; no neighbors near, no one out walking, nothing; just green.

I hated this world. I hated this world with everything in my body. Green represented my hell. No, not red. Green represented hell. Red represented my release from my pain, my safe haven almost. Slowly, I turned my arm over so the palm of my hand was up, and inspected my marred arm. Clean, straight lines all the way down my arm. Some were simply dark lines, some were almost healed, and some were fresh, just scabbing over. A sick kind of satisfaction rolled through me, like doing this to myself was a payback to the others who hurt me.

I finally tore myself away from the mirror and moved lazily to the computer where I had the internet open. I don't know why I was doing this, I shouldn't expect anything. Logging into my email account, I found a few spam mail, but nothing of importance. Surprised Surprise. Who is going to email me? Certainly not Renee. She just got rid of me for good and was off having fun with her new boyfriend. Why would she want to contact her screw up, trouble making daughter.

And definitely not Brian. We had never spoken me much. The only thing he had ever wanted and used me for was my body, and I never got a say as to whether I was to partake in physical activity or not. Why would he email his ex- "girlfriend" whom he never gave a shit about? With a shake of my head I turned off the computer and stood, making my way from the blue room that I never enjoyed.

I wandered down the hall, not entirely sure where I was going. I ended up in the bathroom, staring in the mirror at myself; at a ghost. At least, that's what I looked like. My straight mahogany hair flat and slightly messy down to my waist. My expressionless, dead eyes. My clear but unhealthy skin and unnatural pale shade.

I just looked dead. I looked how I felt and how I wanted to be.

When I couldn't take looking at the stranger in the mirror anymore, I moved out of the bathroom and down the stairs. Inevitably I tripped half way down, managing only by luck to catch myself on the hand rail. The rest of the way down was smooth and uneventful, thankfully. My eyes instantly landed on the clock once downstairs. Charlie would be home in an hour and expecting dinner ready for him. I couldn't take any yelling or hitting tonight, so I set to work.

If you asked me tomorrow, I wouldn't be able to tell you what I made. I don't pay attention to what I make, I only make sure it'll keep him happy and keep him from touching me. I only pay attention to making it good enough for me, even if I hate it, and having it done by the time he gets home. I eat before he does so I don't have to be around him, but when I see his car down the street, I reheat is food, putt it on the table, and disappear to my room.

Today was going to be a bad day despite my efforts. I could tell by the way the front door slammed and the way his footsteps were heavy to the kitchen. I listened quietly to the sound of the opening cabinet. He's getting his glass… and now he's getting the vodka. He's pouring himself a shot; he's throwing it back now. It was a routine, one that I new perfectly by now.

Hopefully this would wear off and I would be left alone for the night. With that hope in mind, I settled on my bed with Pride & Prejudice. I don't know why I read books like this. I didn't believe in love. I didn't believe in the happy ending. I was a true cynic in life.

Possibly I read the book because in the back of my mind it was nice to wish such things were real. It was my escape from my horror and into a fantasy where good things happen and people fall in love. Even if I knew it couldn't happen in reality, a part of me wished it could, and that part of me clung to the make believe.

That is the part of me that has most likely kept me from committing the act I often yearn to, the act that would take away all the pain. I could be gone, unfeeling, and unaware of everything. Someday, maybe…

"Isabella Marie Swan," came the slurred, booming voice that I despised. I winced involuntarily and put down my book. Here it comes, I think to myself as I walk slowly down the stairs, being careful not to trip.

"Yes sir," I ask, my voice flat. I don't meet his eyes, instead staring at the wall behind him.

"Why isn't the laundry done?" His voice is dangerous and already getting to drunk. "I told you to have it done by the time I got home."

"No you didn't, dad," I say, my voice still flat and emotionless, ready for what's to come.

He crosses the distance between us and roughly grabs my arm, gripping to a bruising point. I refuse to wince. "Don't back talk, Isabella. Why isn't the laundry done." He just as roughly released me, shoving me away so that I stumbled backwards, falling on my hind end. He moved to the table and grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a deep swig.

With a breath I stood again and looked at the ground, "You didn't tell me to do any laundry," I say again even though I know where arguing will get me. I'm his daughter, the stubbornness comes from him.

The sound of skin meeting skin was loud as his hand made contact with my cheek. I stumbled back again, but stayed standing.

"What did I say about arguing with me," He yelled, grabbing my arm again and shaking. I set my jaw and finally looked him in the face, eye to eye. "Get in there and do the damn laundry, no more lip," he growled before pushing me towards the door. I'm silent as I leave the room, breathing slowly.

Still numb… absolutely no feeling except for the physical pain.

I did the laundry as asked, wanting to avoid the farther argument.

When Charlie passed the utility room door an hour later, drunk off his ass by now, he simply said, "You're starting school tomorrow. Be there by 7:45," before continuing to his room to pass out for the night.

Dread entered my gut at the thought of school. I was sure to be the object of gossip for at least a month. The town drunks screw up daughter; anti-social and an outcast. Surely she's on drugs.

I shook my head, not wanting to think about it right now. I'd deal with it when it was staring me in the face.

I waited until I was sure Charlie was deeply asleep before going into my room and locking the door. I went straight for my sock drawer, rummaging through it until I found what I wanted.

With a sick smile I kneeled down and open the small plastic bag in my hand. I spread a small amount of white powder drug into the open cigarette case. I could practically feel my body quivering in anticipation, in need. Grabbing the tiny tube I used, I leaned over the substance, putting the tube over the drug and in my nostril while closing the others, I inhaled deeply. What had been uncomfortable the first few times I tried it was now a wonderful feeling. I inhaled again then took a few deep breaths before repeating until I felt the effect set in; the numbing of my mind, the blurring of my thoughts, and the soothing of my muscles. My ecstasy. I unsteadily disposed of all the evidence, putting the left over cocaine back in the bag and hiding it in the cigarette case, which I hid in my sock drawer.

With the deposit of one treasure, I pulled out another: a smooth, silver blade and a cheap cigarette lighter. These are my tools of sin.

I moved to my bed and eagerly set down, ready to start, and ready to release my turmoil. This was my ritual, this was my therapy. Steadily, I held the blade up and struck the lighter until I got a flame, fascinated by the moving fire. I watched eagerly as the flame heated the edge of blade until white hot. Once heated, I cut the flame and dropped the lighter, instantly bringing the blade to my forearm.

It cut cleanly and quickly, the heat making it so much easier. I watched with a sick pleasure as blood started to slide quickly down my arm. The sight still made my stomach clench and my head to cloud and feel dizzy, but I loved it. If I weren't high, I'm sure the blood would have more of an impact.

I repeated the process, smiling as the blood slid down my arm, over the dark scars, over the clean skin. The pain rarely occurred to me anymore, in fact the pain felt good. It made me forget about the pain underneath all the numbness I was feeling.

With two more thin cuts, I was done for the night. The drug was working just as it should, and I was growing tired. I cleaned up slowly and clumsily, though I tried to stay as quiet as possible; Charlie would not be happy were I to wake him.

Climbing into bed, my head was starting to spin; coming down from the high. My movements were a bit shaky and my stomach queasy. I closed my eyes and buried my head in the pillow, breathing slowly.

Though sleep wasn't upon me yet, it wouldn't be soon, and I wanted it to come. I hated this time between sleep and consciousness. My mind wandered without my permission, wandered in an unsteady, fuzzy state that jumped from memory to memory.

None of my memories are good; Renee screaming at me for failing a class, Brian forcing himself onto me and me just laying there. The night I finally got arrested is my most recent. It was nothing big, nothing dramatic. I was sneaking out, got caught out after curfew, so drunk I could barely move. Like farther like daughter, huh?

That was just Renee's excuse to finally get rid of her burden. This was her chance to send me off to the man I was so quickly turning into. It was her chance to be alone with her new husband Phil.

I didn't bother arguing, I would end up here either way, so I didn't bother to make it difficult. So here I am, with a man who doesn't want me but takes me; takes me and beats me. What a wonderful life….

It was with these depressing thoughts that I fell into my restless and nightmare-plagued sleep.

* * *

The annoying beeping grew persistently louder, screaming at me to wake up. It took a moment, but I finally rolled over and slammed my hand on the snooze, groaning. My head hurt and my joints were stiff. The 'hang-over' from the drug. It was a downside, but it was worth it. I stumbled out of bed after a moment and to the shower, getting in it immediately. The cold water woke me up some; cleared my head. It reminded me that I had to start my punishment today; school. Quickly washing my hair with cheap shampoo and my body with an unscented bar of soap, I stepped out to dry myself off.

With the towel wrapped around me, I stepped to the mirror that hadn't even had a chance to fog up. My hair is a wet, tangled mess, my eyes were blood shot. There was a fresh bruise on my arm and a red spot on my cheek to accompany the other bruises on my body. With a shake of my head I opened the medicine counter to grab the eye drops; people didn't need to know about my addiction.

* * *

I pulled up to school half an hour later, all but late. I stepped out of my old truck and headed for the building plainly labeled, "Front Office".

I opened the door into a small, stuffy room. There was a large lady at the desk, completely oblivious to my entering due to her nose shoved in a book. I cleared my throat as I approached and she looked up, startled.

She took in my appearance, her eyebrow rising slightly. Slightly oversized and frayed jeans, a black hoody that was also too big. "Can I help you, dear?" she asked in a falsely sweet voice.

"Isabella Swan, I'm here for my first day," I said blandly. Her eyes widened in understanding I could almost hear her degrading thoughts as she looked me over again before grabbing my schedule.

"Oh yes! Here you are, all your course information and a map around the school. I highlighted the building you'll use." I took the information and left without another word, not caring if I was being rude.

My first class was not hard to find, not that I expected it to me. I entered just before the tardy bell, handed the teacher my schedule, and set. I kept my eyes on my desk, ignoring all the stares from my fellow pupils around me. I didn't care what they thought of me.

The morning was repetitive, with only one teacher making me stand before the class to speak. I didn't meet anybody's eyes, I simply quickly spoke my name and current place of residence before taking my seat.

No one approached, either. Not that I expected them to. I was quite glad that no one did. I didn't enjoy socializing; it was fake, all of it. People would just want to get my story, and then they would drop me like something that smelled bad. Skipping the middle was fine. Let's just go to ignoring me now.

When lunch rolled around, I went through the line, taking whatever lunch food they gave me, and went to a back table, sitting alone. I ignored the curious glances and the whispers, and focused on picking on my food. I ate a little, but mostly just moved it around my plate.

I didn't look around until the end of lunch once most people had stopped staring. It was the usual cliques in a smaller manner. Same boring school, that is at least until my eyes settled on one group. This group was not like the other teenagers around. This group was not moving, they were not speaking, they were not eating. Each person in this group was staring in an opposite direction, bored looks on their faces. And most importantly, each teenager was horribly beautiful, like they had been painted by an artist. They were flawless, more flawless then airbrushed magazine models. They were… different.

All of them had food in front of them, but none of the food was touched. Odd. I slowly let my eyes wander over all of them. A tiny girl that made me instantly think of a pixie. Next to her sat a beautiful blonde angel, his expression almost tormented; her's was worried. Then a massive beast of a man who looked a few years to old to be in high school who was sitting next to a blond that would make even the most beautiful model feel ugly, and finally the youngest looking out of all of them, and easily the most beautiful male.

He had a strange color of hair; red-brown, that was in messy disarray, but not gelled. His features were angular and angel like, and when he turned his head towards me, the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen locked in on mine; a swirling honey color, something that could melt anybody, except me.

I didn't look away, but I kept my dead eyes on his. My expression was blank, my eyes showing nothing. He stared back unblinking, and after a moment or two of curiousness, his expression turned slightly frustrated. This confused me; what did he have to be frustrated about? I wasn't interesting enough, wasn't pretty enough? I was wasting his time by making in stare at me?

He finally looked away when one of his companions stood; the blonde girl, and strode to the trashcan. The followed suit and swiftly threw their untouched food away. Another oddity: They all moved with such inhuman grace it took my breath away. It was like they were floating; or in the pixie like girl's case: dancing.

I watched as they all exited the cafeteria before being distracted by the bell. I shook my head and stood with the rest of the student body, tossing my food and heading to my next class.

Biology was sure to be hell. I had slept all they way through last semester at my old school, so I would have no idea where we were in this one. I was the last one to enter the class again and went through the normal routine. Luckily, I was not told to introduce myself; he did it for me. I made my way back to my assigned seat and looked up long enough to notice who my partner was; the beautiful boy from lunch, the youngest one.

This time, instead of a frustrated gaze, his was one of fury. This gaze beat Charlie or Renee's. It was demonic, evil. Black, hating eyes stared at me, his gorgeous face twisted in a revolted manner. Black eyes? That's… not right.

I couldn't focus on that for too long, however, because he continued to glare at me as I took a seat. I moved slowly, afraid somewhere deep inside of me. What had I done to make this guy mad? I wait a few moments before I looked over once more. He was still staring at me with that hateful, appalled expression. My brow furrowed and I stared back, trying not to look scared. After a moment I finally spoke.

"What?" I asked, keeping my eyes on his. They just seemed to darken and he looked away, scooting as far away as he could. What a strange person… I thought to myself before turning away with a shake of my head. I was quiet for the rest of the period, not at all paying attention to what was going on.

When the bell rang, the boy next to me stood and walked out of the room quickly and smoothly, almost too quickly. I stood slowly myself and walked out, watching my feet. Gym was next, but it was my first day so more than likely I'd be allowed to sit out. I would have to come up with an excuse by tomorrow that would get me out of playing. I'm sure I could… I was good at forging signatures.

I was right, the coach simply told me to sit in the bleachers and watch. Sit I did, watch I did not. I pulled my iPod, slid the ear buds under my hoody, and closed my eyes as I listened to the pounding beats of my favorite metal band. I kept it low enough so that I would be able to hear the bell ring, signaling my release from my first day of punishment.

When the bell did ring, I was the first out of the gym. I went straight to the front office, wanting the lady to sign my slip so I could leave. When I opened the door however, the boy was there. He was speaking in a low, magical voice, leaning over the desk to the lady.

"I'm sorry, Edward," she said, stuttering slightly, "But I just can't let you switch to a higher class. Honors biology is full."

He was trying to switch classes? What was so revolting about me that he needed to get out of the class? I could feel my brow furrow again but I shook my head, not wanting to bother myself with this strange boy's behavior.

"Err… excuse me. Could you just sign this so I could go home?" So what if interrupting is rude? I want to be home, not here. The boy, Edward I believe is his name, stiffened and straightened up. He didn't even look at me as he spoke.

"Never mind. I suppose I'll just live with the tedious class." He grabbed his bag and turned to leave, walking swiftly out of the room and letting the door swing shut behind me.

I let out a rush of air and stepped to the desk, dropping my schedule.

"How was your first day, Hun?" the lady asked as she read of the slip and signed it herself before handing it back.

"Fine," I answered simply before turning and exiting swiftly. The cool hair calmed my racing heart. I hadn't even been aware that it was doing it. How could a guy I don't even know have such a strange effect on me?

I thought back to Biology earlier today and the look of hatred and repulsion he gave me… a chill of fear ran down my spine and caused me to shiver. I stopped dead when this happen.

Why was I letting something like this scare me? I didn't get scared? I didn't let Charlie scare me; I didn't let Brian ever scare me, or Renee. I don't even know this guy; he has no right to be installing fear into me.

With that huff of anger, I set out to my car. I looked around the parking lot first, to see if he was still around, but he wasn't, and a part of me was thankful for that. If he had been I probably would had done something rash; I have been known to hit.

I had a bit of trouble getting my car to start, but what else is new? Charlie gave me this piece of crap as a "homecoming gift". Yeah right, he just didn't want to drive me around everywhere so he got me the cheapest junk yard trash that still ran that he could find.

I let out a sound of frustration as I continued to turn the key, begging the engine to start. The roar of life was my reward several minutes later and I let out a sigh of relief.

"Finally," I growled, pulling out of the parking lot slowly and continuing down the street. The radio was broken so I didn't have any music to listen to, and the window was jammed so I couldn't roll it down. My drives were always silent except for the roar of my engine. It was an oddly soothing sound, so I often enjoyed these rides. It was just me and my truck, no other noises in the world… just peace.

As I drove, I absently turned my arm over, my sleeve pulled up, to inspect last night's damage. The fresh cuts were scabbed over, easily picked to bleed again, but I didn't. It wouldn't be satisfying.

I would have passed my house if I didn't look up at the last minute and hit the breaks dangerously hard. I turned into the driveway, which was empty like always, and cut the engine. I didn't bring a bag today, nor would I any day. I was going to fail most of my classes, so why even try? I slid out of the cab with empty hands and made my way to the door. I had left it unlocked, and I doubt I ever would lock it. Who the hell is going to break into this dump? There isn't anything to steal except an ancient TV and computer upstairs. Maybe drugs, if that's what there were looking for… but no one would break in.

I trudged upstairs and straight to my room, where I collapsed on my bed. I was exhausted, for some odd reason. I knew I shouldn't nap just incase Charlie found me, but I didn't anyways. Sleep came quickly and I gave into the unhappy dreams that I am constantly faced with, just happy that my last day was over.

**REVIEW!!!! Next Chapter won't for another week. Camp and stuff. See you then!**


	3. Strange Behavoir

**A/N: This Chapter IS RE-EDITED! READ IT AGAIN. **

**And I know it's been about 20 years since I last updated... haha. I know, I'm sorry. I'm getting on the next chapter now. I just hated the ending I had to this one. **

* * *

The next week of school went uneventfully. No one tried to speak to me as usual, my teachers got into the pattern of ignoring and not calling on me, my fake excuse went smoothly in gym. I spent that class like I did my first day, iPod music just loud enough and my eyes closed. Actually… I spent most of my classes like that, and my teachers noticed, but didn't care.

I suppose I was kind of like the Ewells in _To Kill A Mockingbird_. I was the school trash, but the rules didn't apply. They just let me do as I wished, as long as I was hurting no one, simply because they knew of the home life I had. Well, they thought they knew, at least… they would never truly know.

The only oddity of the week was the fact that Edward Cullen (as I found out his name was when the Bio teacher did role-call) did not return after that first day. His beautiful family was still there, everyday at the same lunch table, but he was no where to be found. I was mildly curious at first. Did he leave because of me? What could I have possibly done? My curious quickly disappeared and back came the normal numbness, something I had started to panic without. I needed the empty feeling, I was used to it, I couldn't change now.

If anything, now I was mildly glad that he wasn't there. I couldn't take him glaring at me all through class, sitting as far away as possible, seeming not to breath. It was nerve racking, something my nerves couldn't handle.

Home seemed to get worse. With the coming of school and me not being there to do as much house work, Charlie seemed to get grumpier. He was prone to hitting and yelling at me more often. He luckily missed my face more often than not, leaving the bruises on my arms, back and stomach; places that easily could be covered.

He seemed to be more drunk than usual. He constantly reeked of alcohol; his face was never washed, nor was the little hair he had. He was left unshaven and messy. Maybe it was just because he was drinking at home now, not with his buddies. I suppose that may have abandoned him… he got to violent. I would have left him years ago, as soon as the drinking started.

Renee finally called, just to see if I had made it there and hadn't run off. Well if I had, it'd be too late by now. I was supposed to have been here for two weeks, I'd be long gone by now.

Maybe that's what I should have done. Exchange my ticket for a different one and go somewhere else; New York, Rome, Timbuktu. Anywhere would be better than here. Away from here I could almost possibly be happy. I could find my own job, my own place to live. I wouldn't have the troubles of home I do now.

These were vain dreams, however, and I new that. I didn't have the money to afford the difference in cost. Of course it'd cost more to fly from Phoenix to Italy say, then from Phoenix to Port Angeles.

I could hear Charlie shuffling around down stairs. What he was doing up this early was beyond me, but I didn't care enough to find out. I stayed on my bed where I was and stared at the ceiling, my thoughts wandering absently. It was hard to decide if this life was better or worse than my one in Phoenix had been. Better, I suppose. At least, so far I don't regret coming here. There was less to deal with here, just one problem.

I hadn't touched the razor in a week, even if the increasing abuse. Maybe that's way. I didn't have to hurt myself because he was hurting me. I still did a line of coke each night, but was that therapy or addiction? It's hard to tell.

I noticed last night how low my supply was running, and I'm not sure I'd be able to get more. I mean, I'm the only person who's even touched a drug around here, that's almost guaranteed; Port Angeles maybe? I'd have to check it out, but I doubt I'd find much.

Suddenly my alarm blared, causing me to start. I always set Alarm 2 to when it was time for me to leave so that I wouldn't slip back into sleep and miss school. It made Charlie mad when he heard that I had missed or been late to school; it was just another excuse for him to hit me.

I threw my legs over the side of the bed and stood slowly. My head spun, but I shook it off and made my way for the door. I was already dressed, I had done that earlier. I just lay in my room to avoid Charlie as long as I can.

"I'm going to school," I said lamely as I opened the front door to exit. A grunt was the only response I received, the kindest thing he's said to me in weeks. I shook my head softly to myself before leaving the house and getting into my truck.

I thanked God when it started and began the short journey to the school. My mind was elsewhere as I drove, going to a subject that had been often lately: Edward Cullen. Why wasn't he at school anymore, and was it because of me? Of course it was because of me. The way he looked at me that day, and his desperation to get out of my class… it was obvious, but why?

I shook my head, trying to clear my head. Why was I wasting energy on this? He wasn't worth it, if he doesn't like me, then whatever. I didn't know him and I certainly didn't need him in my life.

When the school came into view I let out a sigh of defeat, not looking forward to but ready to face school once again. Nothing was different in the parking lot today, same old cars in almost the same order; predictable.

I got out of the car and made my way to first period, my iPod already blaring in my ears. I took my usual seat in the back of the class and fell into my clouded stupor. I went through the morning like that, just floating around the school in a daze, ignoring the others around me; I was in my own world, like I always am.

At lunch I sat with my back facing the rest of the cafeteria as usual, letting the innocents at the school continue with their business. I could feel a gaze burning into my back, but I didn't care enough to find out who it was. I stayed, ignoring my food and staring at the wall. My only signal that lunch was over was the sudden movement to the exit in my peripheral vision, and I stood up to follow. I dodged the bodies in the hall, trying not to get in peoples way and have them notice me anymore then they already did.

A left, a right, and another left landed me in the familiar biology room. The teacher looked up but that was it, he looked right back away like he didn't see me. I made my way to my chair and got settled. I put my elbow on the lab table and my head in my hand, closing my eyes. I could feel the room still shuffling around me, students socializing before the bell rang. A part of me wondered what that felt like, to be normal, to have absolutely not worries in the world greater than what to wear to the dance.

It's one of those things that I'd never know. I dug myself to deep into this hole in my life and there wasn't really any turning around now. No point in wallowing over things I never had.

I had nearly fallen asleep when I felt a movement near me, closer than usual. My eyes opened to fall on the God-like Edward Cullen. My breath caught slightly, surprised. What was he doing back? And again, his beauty was stunning, but more so this time. Instead of the glare of hatred of last time, this time was a pleasant, breath taking smile. Even more surprising… his eyes. They were different, not the coal black that I was positive they were last time but were now a gorgeous golden color. His lips moved, and I new he was saying something but I couldn't hear it.

"Hmm?" I said, pulling the ear buds from my ears. His smile grew slightly and he held out a pale hand for me to shake.

"Hello, I don't believe we had the pleasure of meeting before," his voice was as heavenly as his face; warm and smooth, like honey. However, memories of the first day flooded back to my and I sat up straighter, narrowing my eyes slightly.

"What, you can speak today?" I asked coldly before turning away and moving to put the ear buds back in. His expression twisted into a slightly confused one, before turning to one of regret.

"I'm quite sorry for my behavior before, I was just having a bad day." I let out a snort before succumbing the blasting music again, tuning him out. This task wasn't as easy as I would have guessed, for it was impossible to not be hyper aware of him sitting next to me. I hadn't a clue as to why it felt this way to be near him, I'd never experienced this with any other male, or any other person, so why him? Last time I saw him, he looked at me like I worse than the lowest scum on earth; like I was the Devil.

The class drug by horribly slow. I was constantly aware of him next to me, constantly aware of the fact that he was watching me. I didn't want to turn to see if it was the angry glare or one of a curiosity. Either way, I'd be worried; scared for my life if it was the glare and… well scared for my life if it wasn't. I find it possibly creepy, that'd he'd hate me one day and suddenly be interested the next.

Finally, the bell rang; at least I assumed it did when the class started to shuffle towards the exit. I stood lazily and turned to walk towards the door, navigating my way behind Cullen, who seemed to be taking his time. As I round the corner of the lab table, my foot caught the leg, sending me sprawling forward. I stuck my forearms out in an attempt to catch my fall, but it wasn't needed; inches from the ground, a pair of solid cold arms wrapped around my waist. I wouldn't have been grateful had not one of the arms pressed right into a large, fresh bruise. With a soft gasp of pain, I jerked away and put a hand over the injured area.

The arms had managed to yank the ear buds from my ears by accident, so when he spoke, I heard it.

"Did I hurt you?" he sounded alarm and horrified, but it couldn't mar the beauty of his voice. I turned to look at him, his expression mimicking his tone. I refused to look into his eyes, the beauty of them too stunning.

"No, I'm fine," I said gruffly, smoothing out my shirt. I didn't even look at him before turning on my heel and starting out the door.

"Wait," I heard him call in the melodic voice, "Isabella, isn't it?" He appeared by my side, his books held by his hips. I granted him a slide glance, but then quickly looked straight again. I nodded briskly in response to his question, and he continued, "Do you mind if I walk with you to your next class?"

I rolled my eyes before stopping and turning to him, looking up into those breath-taking eyes. It took all I had to give into falling for them, "Yes, I do mind. Goodbye." I turned forward once more and continued forward, leaving a slightly stunned Edward Cullen behind me.

I noticed a few more raised eyebrows in the hall than usual. I wasn't truly surprised; what I had observed of the other Cullens so far was that they didn't seem to be too social, at least not outside of their little group. I guess it would be a shock to anybody that the most beautiful of the five was talking to the strange new girl.

I reached the gym in minutes and went straight to my usual spot on the bleachers. I pulled the hood of my jacket up, put my iPod back on and closed my eyes. I focused my mind on memorizing and working out the beats of the music, trying to hear what the words were. It did exactly what I had hoped; kept my mind off Edward.

Today, I actually didn't notice the movement in the gym, to caught up in the beat of the music. It wasn't until I felt someone tap me on the shoulder that I opened my eyes to find the coach walking away already. I stood quickly and walked out of the building, going straight to my car. On my way to the ancient piece of junk that was my vehicle, I glanced up once to catch sight of Edward Cullen watching me. His expression was slightly frustrated, but not in an angry way, as long as the normal curiosity, like he wanted to figure me out. _Good luck, buddy_, I thought to myself.

Quickly, I averted my gaze and climbed into my truck. Like all days, it wasn't guaranteed that the truck would start, but after a bit of pleading and fiddling with the key, the engine roared to life. A few people around me jumped in surprised, and I couldn't help it when a small smile of amusement peaked onto my lips.

Pulling out of the parking spot, my entire focus was not looking at the Cullens, not even once. I succeeded and was soon cruising down the road at a snails pace. I looked in my rear view mirror after a few moments on whim to catch sight of Cullen's Volvo, just before it went into the next lane to wiz past me. Within seconds it was out of my sight, going at dangerous speeds, and my stomach clenched with envy. I thought of the days I would go with Brian to his street races, where he would left me ride in the passenger seats. It was a thrill, and the speed sent me on a natural high, if I wasn't already on an artificial one.

I missed it; not him or the life, but the freedom that came with the speed, the few seconds of bliss and worry-free feelings. I wished I could have that back. If I tried to go that fast in this car, it'd probably bottom out and I'd have to Flintstone it everywhere.

Charlie's driveway neared me, and the truck slowly crawled into it before sputtering to a halt, the engine dying. I sat there for a few moments, glaring no specific point of the truck, hating it, before sliding out and going inside. As usual, I was alone. The house was clean and the laundry was done, due to my eagerness to keep Charlie happy, and me bruise free. If I had homework, I didn't care, and would never do it.

I wandered upstairs and scanned over my poor book collection, but nothing struck my interest; I'd read everything there at least a dozen times each. They all got boring after a while, and I probably had most of them memorized word for word.

I didn't even want to bother with the computer. It'd take me a year to get it even started up.

_God this place is dull_, I thought to myself as I walked to the window, gazing out to it. Everything seemed to have an ugly green tint to it, and it made me feel sick. I wanted the warmth, the clearness, the _brown_ back.

I kicked the wall when I walked away from it, angry at everyone, mainly my mother for being an uncaring bitch, and forcing me to Hell. I heard the front door slam, and looked up quickly. It was awfully early for Charlie to be home, and from the way he yelled my name, he wasn't angry. I took a deep breath, and headed downstairs.

"Where is my dinner?" He demanded, not seeming aware of how early it was.

"It's only like, 3:30, Charlie," I said blandly, looking away from him. He advanced more quickly than I expected and shoved me back before pointing a finger in my face. The whisky on his breath was wretched.

"What did I tell you about talking about?" He snapped, his dilated eyes livid. With a slap to the face and pushing me once more, he walked out, "And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Dad. Stop being disrespectful... and I want dinner within the next half hour." He stumbled on his way out, and a moment later I heard the TV start up.

I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath, not letting myself cry. I wiped blood away from my split lip and set to work, hurrying the best I could. I had to settle for Mac&Cheese, since I had such a short time frame. When dinner was through, the two of us ate in silence, and with our usual routine, he left right after to pass out upstairs, though it was after some more yelling tonight.

I wondered what had him so especially angry tonight as I cleaned; possibly his drinking bodies abandoned him? I would be good for him, in a way, horrible for me if I was his anger release constantly from now on. I cringed at the idea, and wished I had somewhere else to go.

When everything was finished, I went upstairs and got my poison out. I frowned at how low it was, I had maybe a few more nights worth left.

Less, because tonight I needed more. I did two lines, and fell back on the bed feeling satisfied. I was numb, unable to feel the pain of my injuries. It didn't take much longer before I passed out into a drugged, dreamless sleep.


End file.
